


Beautiful hell

by Winchestergirl178



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Heartbroken Dean, M/M, Sam Winchester at Stanford, Stanford Era, Unrequited Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester, Wincest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-02
Updated: 2016-04-02
Packaged: 2018-05-30 16:08:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6431233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Winchestergirl178/pseuds/Winchestergirl178
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A lovesick Dean decides to visit Sam at Stanford. He isn't prepared for what he see's.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beautiful hell

**Author's Note:**

> This fic ended being more angsty than what I was aiming for, but we love angsty wincest right?  
> No? Just me? .... okay then. 
> 
> The title was taken from a song by Adna called Beautiful hell.
> 
> This is my first fic so any comments, criticism and suggestions on how to improve would be greatly appreciated:)

Dean parked the Impala close enough to the campus so that he could see, but not close enough that he would be seen. It had been two years since he had last laid eyes on his little brother. Two long, lonely miserable years spent fighting the ever growing urge to break into Sam’s room at Stanford and beg him to come back home. Back to him. He’d finally given into the crushing urge and raced at record breaking speed to Palo Alto telling himself he was just concerned. That’s all. He hadn’t heard from Sam in months and he was worried. He was just going to check on him, make sure that he was okay and then leave. He wouldn’t even speak to him. 

The truth was he loved Sam more than he probably should. He loved him in ways that he shouldn’t, in ways that were wrong. He couldn’t specify when he realised that he was in love with his brother, he couldn’t remember if there was a defining moment or if he had simply felt that way since the day he carried Sammy out of their burning house. Sam had been a constant in Dean’s life that he had never had before. They had grown up together in the backseat of a car never calling one place home except for each other. When John was gone for long periods of time, they only had each other for company and relied on each other for comfort. Sam was Dean’s beautiful hell, his one weakness, his light in the darkness of their twisted, messed up lives. Dean would never admit it, but he needed Sam like he needed air; he would die without it and right now, he was suffocating.

He watched students wander around the campus, some in groups and some alone but there was only one person that he was looking for. He was looking for dark messy hair falling into hazel puppy dog eyes and cute dimpled smiles that could brighten up the darkest of days. He felt his heart lurch in his chest as he recognised the figure walking across the campus. He hungrily drank in the sight of him, memorising every detail. He was taller, he noticed, his hair a little longer and his skin darker from the California sun. He had his head in a book and a bag slung over his shoulder. Dean couldn’t stop the grin from spreading across his face at the sight. Sam suddenly looked up as though he’d heard someone calling him. He turned around and there was a pretty blonde girl running towards him, his face split into a blinding smile as he caught her and held her body close to his. Dean shouldn’t have felt jealousy surge through him like lightening as he watched the girl run her fingers through his brother’s hair. His stomach shouldn’t have twisted and tightened with longing as Sam kissed the girl who was obviously his girlfriend. He watched them together as she put her arm around his waist and his slipped around her shoulders, pulling her close. It looked both the most natural and unnatural thing in the world. Envy coiled around his heart as he watched Sam lean down to whisper something to her and she looked back up at him laughing, light shining in her blue eyes. He watched them until they disappeared around a corner. 

Dean wasn’t sure how long he stayed staring at the spot where Sammy had vanished. It could have been hours, days, he didn’t notice. The scene replayed in his head on a continuous loop, each time tearing him apart a little bit more than the last. It was like torture, watching his Sammy be happy with someone else, someone who couldn’t protect him from the things in the dark. The night finally crept up on him and he started the Impala, suddenly needing to be as far away from Stanford as he could get. He drove until he didn’t know where he was which suited him fine because he had been lost since the day that Sam left. He found himself in a parking lot that he didn’t recognise and he finally let the unshed tears flow. Emotion that he had been holding back washed over him like a tidal wave, it hit him with a force that knocked the breath out of him. He struggled to breath, his chest felt too tight and his skin too hot. He reached into the glove compartment and pulled out the whiskey that had become his only companion. He took a deep sip and let it hit the back of his throat, the strong taste washing away the bile. He closed his eyes and tried to block out the voice screaming in his head saying “why are you so upset? He’s your brother and he’s happy, you shouldn’t feel like you’re dying”. He ignored the voice when it said “you know it’s your fault that he left Dean, he left because of you, you failed him”. He finished the bottle when he heard the voice whisper “you could have never made him as happy as he is now. You’re not good enough for him and you never will be”. Dean groped in the dark, searching for more whiskey but no amount of liquor could drown out the voice because that voice was his own.

Dean hadn’t prepared himself for how seeing Sammy again would affect him. He thought that time and distance might have changed his feelings but he had been wrong. They had strengthened. He sat in the middle of nowhere, the second whiskey bottle half empty and tears streaming down his face, “Sammy”, he breathed into the cold midnight silence as his heart shattered into a thousand pieces.


End file.
